


Run Me Like a River

by jjtaylor



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: F/F, Strap-Ons, The Cobalt Soul, The Xhorhaus
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-07
Updated: 2019-12-07
Packaged: 2021-02-26 23:14:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,383
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21707185
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jjtaylor/pseuds/jjtaylor
Summary: “She can sleep in my bed. When I'm not there.”
Relationships: Dairon/Beauregard Lionett
Comments: 9
Kudos: 159





	Run Me Like a River

Beau stretches and slips off her pants, getting in to bed in just her shorts and tank top. Xhorhas is cold, especially after the warmth of Nicodranus, the sun still on her skin, and the molten heat of the kiln. 

The sheets are soft and Beau relaxes, anticipating rest in a real bed, with a fucking pillow under her head. She's so busy getting settled and arranged, blankets falling just right over her shoulders, pillow just right under her neck, that the tickle of the strange scent doesn't register until she's still, eyes closed. Then it swoops up, like she's put her nose right into one of Caduceus' weird flowers in the roof garden. The smell of someone else, in the sheets, on her pillow. 

Dairon. She slept here, in Beau's bed. 

Beau presses her face into her pillow and then the fold of the sheets, inhaling Dairon's scent. 

Fuck, it’s too much. Beau flops over on her stomach, before she can really think it through to stop herself, and slips her hand into her shorts, presses hard at her clit. Fuck, fucking Dairon, why does she have to make Beau so crazy. So desperate for approval from authority she hates. So desperate to impress. Yes, it had been demeaning to make Dairon play their housekeeper, but in their absence, Beau imagined Dairon would just revert entirely to her spy stuff. She didn't really think about Dairon just - living - in their house. Like someone who might spend the night. 

Shit, Beau was just going to touch herself enough to settle down, and get some sleep so she could get ahold of her brain and stop this fucking stupid dangerous train of thought. But instead, she’s thinking about Dairon undressing and slipping under the sheets in Beau's bed. Did she sleep naked? Did she wear Beau’s clothes, too? 

Beau dips her fingers down lower, spreads the wetness up over her clit, bites back a sigh into the pillow and then inhales Dairon's scent again. She starts stroking herself in earnest, firm circles over her clit, fingers pressing into the wet heat and then back up again. 

She thinks of Dairon, touching herself in Beau's bed, the swell of her breasts under the sheet, Dairon running her hands down her belly to between her legs, whether or not she was imagining Beau - 

The thought makes her flip over onto her back, breathe in deep, and dig her hands into the mattress. Sleep. She's going to go to sleep. 

But just the slide of her legs against the sheets sends shivers down her spine and she brings her hand back under her shorts, pressing two fingers in a slow push all the way inside, then circling her clit, over and over. 

There's a creak at the door. Beau freezes. Jessie, she thinks. Fuck. She braces for the taunting _“Are you touching yourself Beau? Want me to come back in a little while?”_ But there's nothing. 

No, that's not true. Someone's come in, closing the door behind them. 

“Go on,” Dairon's voice says from the dark. “I enjoy watching.” 

“Fucking shit,” Beau swears. She sits up, sheets pooling around her waist. “Dairon - “ 

“Do you require my instruction?” Dairon says, for all the world like this is a sparring session. 

“Uh - “ Beau stammers. 

“Very well, then,” Dairon says and strides into the room. She's at Beau's side instantly, sitting on the edge of the bed. Beau is still sitting up, frozen, mouth agape. “Give me your hand,” Dairon says. 

There's no mistaking what she means. Beau feels the pulse between her legs. She tries to wipe a little on the sheets but her fingers area still slippery. 

“Mmm,” Dairon says, and then she takes Beau's hand and slides her fingers in her mouth. 

Beau groans, obscenely loud in the room. Her eyes flick nervously to the door. “Jester could - ” 

“Beauregard,” Dairon purrs and Beau has to bite back a whimper, “I know how to properly secure a room. It is merely a matter of arranging that those who might enter are otherwise occupied.” 

“I don’t want to know what that means.” 

“No, I think you want to know how many times I brought myself to climax in your bed.” 

Beau gasps, then Dairon spreads Beau's index finger and thumb and bites the skin there. 

“How,” Beau stutters and then, “How many times?” 

“One for each strike you've landed against me,” Dairon whispers. 

Beau's mind splits in two tailspin directions: what it felt like flush with pride to land a hit, and the idea of Dairon keeping count. 

“Please,” Beau says, and Dairon knows it for the victory it is. She places her hands on Beau's shoulders and guides her back down on the bed. 

But instead of laying on top of her as Beau had been expecting, Dairon begins to pull back the sheets. 

“Ah - “ Beau says, and Dairon's fingers brush her thighs and her calves. Dairon folds the blankets carefully in an accordion, leaving Beau's feet bare and Beau gasps, both from the touch and being exposed. 

“Continue,” Dairon says. 

“Oh -” Beau breathes out, and slides her hand into her shorts, looking up at Dairon, both making sure she's doing what Dairon wants and so she can watch Dairon's face. She wants to see the moment this affects her, the flash of lust that drove her to fuck herself in Beau's bed - or was that just a power play? There's no reason it can't be both with Dairon. 

Beau's even more wet, her shorts getting sticky, her labia swollen. The first few strokes of her fingers are such a relief, she tips her head back and lets her eyes fall closed for a moment. But she forces them open, because she's being watched and the only way Beau can handle that is to watch back. 

“Good,” Dairon says, “Give me more.” 

Hunger rockets through Beau. She slides her fingers inside herself, the bend of her wrist stretching the material of her shorts. It feels so good and she needs more, she needs Dairon to fucking weigh in here and not just – observe. 

Beau groans with relief when Dairon's hands land on her waist, but she's detached, tugging the waistband of Beau's shorts down. 

“Don't stop,” Dairon commands and Beau focuses on sliding her fingers in deep as the material of her shorts pulls down over her hand, down past her thighs, down over her ankles. Dairon carefully slips first one and then the other of Beau's feet out. Now that her legs have more freedom, she can stretch them wide, let her knees fall open, reach deeper. 

“Are you – are you just gonna watch?” Beau throws out, hoping maybe to bait Dairon. 

Dairon cocks her head to the side, like she's considering. “You seem perfectly capable - “ 

“Dairon,” Beau implores, “Touch me.” 

Again, she's expecting – hoping – that Dairon will climb on top of her, press her weight on Beau like she'd imagined- but what Dairon actually does is to break Beau. 

Dairon's fingers are stroking her cunt, slipping around where Beau's fingers are deep inside, stroking her knuckles. Dairon presses a finger at her entrance, Beau pulls back her hand. 

“No,” Dairon says, and stares Beau down. 

“Oh – okay,” Beau stammers, and a helpless sound spills out of her as Dairon's finger presses slowly inside her, against Beau's two fingers. Beau's eyelids flutter, her legs fall even further apart, and Dairon moves to settle between them. She can feel the shift of Dairon's clothing against her skin, but all Beau can really focus on is the stretch of Dairon's finger deep and flush against her own. 

“Go on now,” Dairon purrs and Beau moves her fingers out to circle her clit and then slides back into her cunt. Dairon mimics her movements, follows along exactly. Beau cries out when she does it again and again, Dairon moving in tandem. 

She feels the press of a second finger from Dairon, the stretch, and Dairon's slow, careful slide. 

“Fuck, Dairon, oh shit,” Beau gasps, and then when Dairon's two fingers and Beau's two fingers are flush to the second knuckle, Beau's hips cant up, pushing them deeper, deeper - 

Dairon continues to mirror Beau's movements exactly, so Beau has four fingers circling her clit, four fingers pressing slow and slick inside her – Dairon's fingers alongside hers in perfect harmony. 

Several more firm circles around her clit and the quick, slick, deep slide of their fingers – hers and Dairon's together, fuck– and Beau comes, clenching tight around them, hips moving arrhythmical, legs trembling. As Beau slides her fingers out, presses one last circle around her clit, chasing the aftershocks, Dairon does the same and Beau feels like she almost comes again, a renewed wave and rush overwhelming her. 

She's out of breath and dizzy but when Dairon shifts on the bed, Beau is quick to grab her wrist. 

“I am not going anywhere,” Dairon says, and she stands to undress herself. 

Dairon takes her robe off and Beau’s mouth falls open in shock. Dairon’s wearing leather straps around her waist, between her legs. From a satchel she pulls out a polished wood cock and fits it into a slot in the front. 

“Beauregard,” Dairon says, turning so the cock juts out of her in profile, “Do you want me to fuck you like this?” 

Beau just breathes out a long, “Uhhhhh.” 

“If this is not your preference I can instruct you on how to pleasure me.” 

“Uhhhh,” Beau says again, completely flummoxed. 

Dairon laughs, low. 

“Oh, I have rendered you speechless, how astonishing. I will give you a moment to gather your thoughts because I do want you to enjoy this.” 

“I, uh,” Beau says, swallowing hard, watching as Dairon checks the fit of her wooden cock, strokes her hand experimentally up and then back down. “I think I'd enjoy that. Uh. You, uh, you fucking me.” 

“Very well,” Dairon says, and it would sound like a transition in a lesson but Dairon comes closer to Beau, guides her hands down to the wooden cock and when Beau wraps her hands around it, Dairon bends down and kisses her, deep and dirty. 

Beau whines, and she’s not even ashamed. 

Dairon's hands on Beau's waist are gentle. The way Dairon's gaze locks on hers as she aligns their bodies. It slams into Beau's chest, makes her panicky and overwhelmed. 

“Look at me, Beauregard,” Dairon says, stilling her, as she pushes her cock – fuck, Dairon's cock – inside, slow, slower than she needs to, and Beau can't say that but she groans, impatient, digs her heels into the bed, cants her hips up. 

“Greedy,” Dairon chides her, but she obliges, and they're panting, mouths touching in not-quite a kiss. 

Then Dairon's seated all the way inside, their pelvises flush. She stays there, as they breath together, and Beau feels so full, so stretched. 

“Is this - “ Beau starts and then gasps as Dairon rocks forward. “Is this what you were – god, were you preparing me? Getting me ready for your cock?” 

“I was,” Dairon hums, and Beau's head falls back as her hips push up, digging her heels in, feet flexed to get Dairon just the right spot. 

This is not what she imagined. Dairon's weight on her, Dairon's hips against hers, their skin slipping together, their hands free to roam one another's bodies - 

”Does this – does it do anything for you?” 

“It does many things for me, Beauregard, but if you mean will I climax like this, probably not. Your skills will be needed to complete that task.” 

“I can do that,” Beau says between gasps. 

“I should hope so,” Dairon whispers. She adjusts her hips a little to drive deeper into Beau, whose breath is knocked out of her. “Right now is about what I am doing to you,” Dairon says, emphasizing each word with a deep thrust. “Tell me,” Dairon says. 

“Fuck,” Beau calls out, thighs tense. “Faster,” she says and Dairon complies immediately. Beau is moaning on each stroke, the leather of the harness just enough pressure for her to feel it against her clit each time Dairon pushes all the way in. 

“Dairon, god,” Beau gasps and those are the last words she can form as her climax builds, so slow, so goddamn slow, layer over layer of build and feeling, but god, when she comes, it's long, it's a downpour, and she's trembling and still squeezing her thighs together after Dairon pulls out. 

The scent of Dairon is all around her. Beau hears the sound of the harness coming off, being set down. 

“Was that good?” Dairon teases, laying down next to Beau. 

Beau makes an unintelligible sound, but she pulls Dairon in for a kiss. 

“When you're ready, I'll have to teach you how to use the double-ended one.” 

“The double - “ As Beau attempts to recover from that image, Dairon brings Beau’s hand between her legs where she's hot and slick. She guides Beau's fingers until Beau can get it just right, and Dairon's panting against Beau's neck, praising her hands, murmuring her name. Dairon comes with a gasp, and Beau gentles her thought it until Dairon pulls away. 

“Again?” Beau asks. 

“I am spent,” Dairon whispers, breathless, and arranges herself beside Beau. 

“Are you gonna spend the night?” 

“Your bed certainly is more crowded now that you've returned.” Dairon says. Beau can’t help but laugh, forehead pressed against Dairon’s shoulder. “I will stay for a short while.” They don’t cuddle, really, but it’s warm and reassuring to have Dairon next to her; Dairon’s soft breathing lulling her to sleep. 

  


Beau wakes when a crack of light from the door hits her face. She’s alone in the bed, and this time it really is Jester coming in. 

“Did you have fun?” Jester mock-whispers. 

Beau covers a yawn with her arm. She’s still naked and she pulls the sheet up, but as usual Jester is unphased by nudity. “We had a good, um, conversation.” 

“Oh, Beau you don’t have to lie. Dairon told me she needed the room so you two could bone. So, was it good?” 

“Uh, yeah,” Beau stutters, and then, “Dairon did not tell you that.” 

“She seems like a good teacher. Did you learn a lot?” Jester’s grin is evil. 

“Yeah,” Beau says, “Yeah, I did.”


End file.
